Nighttime Musings
by ARCtheElite
Summary: A collection of works inspired by a ride home at night... the plan is for each story to feature a different character, but you never know...
1. Homeword Bound

**Homeward Bound**

Patamon looked at the bright lights that dotted the landscape beyond the window pane. Like cheery motes, they danced in the distance, beckoning to the little digimon as he rested by the window seat on the bus. Beside him, Takeru slumbered; soft snores could be heard from him… and a few other miscellaneous sounds, sounds that suggested Takeru was having pleasant dreams. Dreams of a beautiful, brown-haired girl waiting for him back home.

Patamon snickered softly before turning his attention back to the landscape in front of him. Tokyo at night was… beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. It was late at night, well past rush hour, so the train was quiet, save the gentle hum of its engines and the rumble of wheels against the track. Patamon sighed, casting his thoughts back to the arduous struggles several years ago, when they faced demons and vampires and a mad clown thrown in for good measure. But looking out at the peaceful world before him, Patamon decided that the fighting was worth it. They had preserved a beautiful, free world and saved it from extra-dimensional tyranny.

Home… What a beautiful word. Odaiba was home, a home that Patamon very much missed. Osaka was nice, Patamon supposed, but Tokyo – Odaiba. Odaiba was in a league of its own. What could compare, Patamon decided, with the feeling of walking through your own front door? Or the familiar smells – the roses Takeru's mother loved so much, or the musty smell of books that emanated from the Takaishi library? Or even better, the feeling of solidarity and familiarity as one walked into his own room, changing into comfortable pyjamas, and climbing into bed after a long day of hard work?

Patamon silently counted off the stations. Matsumoto. Shibuya. Shinjuku. Soon it would be Odaiba, where mom and dad would be waiting. There would be plenty of hugs and kisses, Patamon was sure. Takeru would probably blush and be all embarrassed at his mother's comments about "my little boy, all grown up" and Patamon would probably fly high into the air to escape facing the same treatment.

And tomorrow. Tomorrow Takeru would be re-united with his friends. And more than friends – they were comrades-in-arms. They had fought once, some twice, alongside Takeru as they sought to preserve the freedom of both worlds. And, as Patamon snickered again, _she _would be there. They would wrap their arms around each other and act all lovey-dovey, and then laugh at Daisuke when he puts up his "hurt and betrayed" act. And Miyako would probably end up arguing with Daisuke – after all, they hadn't argued for so long, being immersed in their studies and all. And Ken – ever the kind and gentle soul, he would attempt – fruitlessly – to separate the two.

Home… and friends. As Patamon leaned back to look at the dancing lights again. There were fewer now; they approached the bridge that separated Odaiba from the rest of Tokyo. As the train climbed onto the bridge, Patamon looked ahead – ahead at the man-made island he and Takeru called home. Soon, he thought. Soon they would there. And tonight, he and Takeru would be climbing into _their _bed. The best bed in the world, in the best room in the world, in the best apartment in the world.

A light jolt snatched Takeru from slumber. The boy blinked twice and turned to regard the digimon. "Where are we?" he asked, sleep still in his voice.

"Almost there," Patamon replied, still gazing out the window.

Out where the lights of Odaiba beckoned. Beckoning them home.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I wrote this while travelling on a bus between Mississauga and York University, if that means anything to you. I was looking out at the streetlights, and listening to "Once in Every Lifetime" by Jem (and got to the part "so far… from home") and decided to write "stream-of-consciousness" (except I cheated and used a thesaurus, drawing inspiration from my five senses (except smell wasn't co-operating very well).

Hope you enjoyed! (and I just turned into York University's bus loop, which means bye!)


	2. Scared of the Dark

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry to those who left reviews on the story, but I'm reposting this as a chapter instead of a story. So to those who already read this before, nothing has changed.

* * *

**Scared of the Dark**

Daisuke stared into the darkness. He wasn't sure why, but he found that the supposedly-comforting darkness was revolting to him. A part of him thought that if he focused all of his will, he could make the dark go away. And almost immediately, the other, more rational part rebuked the thought. Of course Daisuke knew it was impossible to chase the darkness away. It was there to stay – or at least until the sun rose to chase the blanket of night away again.

Perhaps it was the recent run-ins with the powers of darkness. The apocalyptic beast that was Kimeramon had left a much deeper scar on Daisuke than he had expected. It was impossible to escape such an ordeal unscathed, Daisuke knew, but this uncertainty, this… fear – worried Daisuke more than a hundred Kimeramon.

Was he afraid of the dark now? He found that particular thought hard to believe. He was Daisuke, bearer of Courage – complete with capital 'C'. He was courage incarnate. To be afraid of something was somewhat foreign to him. Never in his memory had he been afraid – not when he got lost in the mall as a little kid, not when he was about to do public speaking – not even when he was faced with hordes of dangerous, malicious and bloodthirsty digimon waiting to tear his heart out and hand it to the Kaiser on a silver platter. He had always felt a thrill. He was excited to go up and speak his mind, or to wander the mall, or travel the digital world. The concept of fear had just never occurred to him. Daisuke laughed at that. Miyako might call him foolhardy rather than courageous. Not that he ever listened to what Miyako said.

But why now? It was over, wasn't it? Kimeramon had perished under Magnamon's blinding radiance, and the Kaiser – Ken – had repented, or at least left the digital world for good. There had been no sign of the Kaiser for a week now. So why was afraid now, and afraid of something as trivial as the dark?

He ran a hand through his spiky hair. He wasn't used to thinking about his problems. Not because he was repulsed by the idea of thinking, but because he had always viewed dwelling on problems a waste of time and energy – energy that could be diverted towards other things, like kicking the Kaiser's butt to the moon.

A knock on the door broke into Daisuke's thoughts. Taichi Yagami strolled in, hands in his pockets. His casual pose quickly changed to one of concern, however, when he saw Daisuke's face. Hikari followed half a step behind, and her face rapidly mirrored her brother.

"What's wrong?" his mentor asked.

Daisuke shook his head. "I don't know," he confessed. "I just feel…um…" Daisuke struggled for a way to say it to his hero.

"Scared?" Taichi supplied.

Daisuke looked up, somewhat surprised, when Taichi clapped a hand on his shoulder. The older boy gave Daisuke a grin like that of a six-year-old.

"Too scared to admit that you're scared, hm?" Daisuke nodded dumbly. He felt somewhat ashamed that Taichi, the original avatar of courage, saw through him, right into his fearful heart.

Taichi shrugged. "Good", he smiled, "you're human."

Daisuke looked up again. "W-what do you mean?"

"Everyone's scared. Death, failure, the unknown; everyone has something they're afraid of."

"But," Daisuke protested. "I'm the chosen of courage. I can't be afraid!"

"Courage isn't whether you are scared or not. It's what you do with your fear. Take my case for example. Do you remember the story of when my crest first shone?"

Daisuke nodded. Taichi had defied rational thought and reached through an electric fence to save Sora. And, almost as a reward, his crest shone and Agumon morphed into the titanic MetalGreymon to win the day. Daisuke considered it a "crowning moment of awesome", something he was determined to live up to.

"I was scared… Koushiro had said that we could potentially die, and that shook me up really badly. But I reached through, despite my fear, to save Sora – and to save myself. And later, when the eight of us returned to face the Dark Masters, we went willingly, despite our fear. We could have stayed – in fact, our parents wanted us to stay – but somehow, we conquered that fear to save the world. It's not something a couple of eleven-year-olds are expected to do, after all," Taichi added.

"And a pair of eight-year-olds," Hikari finally spoke up. Taichi nodded sheepishly, clearly embarrassed that he had forgotten his own sister.

"But more importantly, Daisuke, tell us what you're afraid of. Maybe we can help," Hikari offered.

"It's…it's…I guess I'm afraid of the dark now," Daisuke blurted out. He cringed in preparation for the laughter that would surely accompany his statement.

None came. The room was oddly silent as the Yagami siblings considered the implications of that statement. Neither of them were strangers to the malignant dark.

Finally, Taichi spoke up. "Is it because of Kimeramon? Or seeing Agumon turn into a darker version of himself? Or perhaps the Kaiser?"

"First one," Daisuke muttered. "I don't know why! Kimeramon's dead and all, and Kais—Ken isn't about to raise another one anyway. But somehow, the concept of Kimeramon scares me. Even when I was brought in front of Myotismon, I didn't feel this way."

"Myotismon – he was smart," Taichi replied. "It didn't make him any less despicable, but he was smart. Kimeramon was a living juggernaut of destruction. There's a difference. But back to darkness… yes, it exists, but don't forget that the dark is a natural part of life. There are pre-destined hours of daylight and similarly pre-destined hours of night. And there are things you can do in the dark that you can't do in the light."

"But the darkness that was Kimeramon… don't forget that there are people fighting against it. People like you and V-mon." Hikari added.

Chibimon twitched in his sleep at the mention of his name, and Daisuke turned to regard the miniature azure dragon fondly.

"I won't tell you not to be afraid of the dark," Taichi said, "But you're not alone in it. And it's what you do with your fear that makes you either a coward or a hero."

Daisuke nodded, and turned back to the balcony window. From beyond, tiny individual beacons illuminated Odaiba. Above the island, far above the reach of the beams floated dark clouds, but they were clouds of peacefulness and dreams, rather than an smothering haze of darkness. Perhaps the blanket of night wasn't so revolting after all.

END

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**Author's Notes:** This is the second story I've written while on the bus, at night, travelling from school (Hamilton) to home (Toronto). For those of you who are familiar with the area… there's a stretch of the 403 (I think it's the 403; it might be the beginning of the 407), just after one leaves Hamilton, where there are very few streetlights, and the hills block an light from the surrounding residential area. I was wondering whether I could write a story about the dark, and here it is! I was also listening to a bunch of somewhat angsty songs too, such as "Time is Running Out" by Muse.

I've been quite inactive as of late too. There's a challenge I've been working on (and slacking off on) so expect that sometime… it will focus on KEN.


	3. Balancing and Relaxation

**Author's Notes: **So I got a request in a review last time to do a story about Miyako and Hawkmon. The idea never really left my head, but the inspiration never kicked in… until now. It's not purely Miyako and Hawkmon, since Iori is greedy and wants some limelight too…

* * *

**Balancing and Relaxation**

"I paid 900 good yen for this ticket!" Miyako complained. "It's ten at night, I'm tired, and all I get for 900 yen is a lousy place to stand on a shaky bus and… aahhh!"

Iori Hida regarded his older and more agitated friend as she picked herself off the floor – again. "Miyako-san," he said quietly. "People can hear you. They're staring, too."

"I don't care!" Miyako retorted, rising to her feet with a frown. "I've fallen over three times, and my feet are numb! I have every right to complain!"

Iori resisted the urge to kick Miyako, or smack her with his kendo stick. Beside him, Hawkmon shook his head and slapped a wing against his feathered forehead. "Miyako, PLEASE! Control yourself! You sound like a whining six-year old."

"But we've been spending the whole day at Taichi's lame gathering playing soccer, and – what are you laughing at?" Miyako glared at Armadillomon.

Armadillomon stifled a chuckle. "It's not my fault you can't play soccer for beans, _da'gya_. Besides, my feet don't hurt, and I've been playing as long as you have."

Miyako glared. "You have four feet and a tail. I only have two feet. You have more surface area to support your bulk."

"My bulk!" Armadillomon protested. "Are you calling me fat, you couch potato of a woman, _da'gya_?"

Iori joined Hawkmon in rubbing his forehead. Why was he stuck with Miyako again? Why couldn't it have been Daisuke, or someone else? "Miyako-san," he prodded. "Miyako-san!"

"—and you do nothing but eat and sleep all day! You—what?" Miyako's head swivelled in Iori's direction.

"Close your eyes." Iori commanded.

"Do what!?" Miyako asked in disbelief. _Is he for real?_

"Close your eyes." Iori repeated with veiled calm.

"What are you, a Jedi? Close my eyes?"

"Close your freaking eyes, Miyako!" Iori shouted, completely losing his temper.

Cowed, Miyako did as she was told. "Now what?"

"Don't be so antsy," Iori reprimanded. "Now, feel the bouncing bus beneath your feet."

"I can't even feel my feet!" Miyako complained.

"Shut up and do as I say, woman."

"Fine, fine," Miyako muttered.

"Spread your feet apart to about shoulder width," Iori continued. "Bend your knees slightly; don't lock them." Miyako bent her knees. "Good. Now, use one hand to hold on to the railing and let your other one drop limply by your side." Her left hand dropped to her side. "And don't hold onto the handlebar that tightly; your knuckles are turning white."

"But I'll fall!" Miyako complained.

"Guarantee you won't," Iori interrupted. "Finally, relax your body and feel the swaying of the bus. Don't resist it; go with the swaying. And each time the bus bounces, enjoy the moment of weightlessness. Feel gravity lose its hold of you – and don't keep your arm so stiff! Relax!"

Miyako relaxed her arm, just to stiffen it again. "I'm falling!"

Iori sighed. "No you aren't. Don't be so dramatic. Relax… relax… sway with the bus. Imagine you are of the bus."

"Do I still have to keep my eyes closed?" Miyako asked tentatively.

Iori shrugged. "It's not like there's much to see anyway, is there? It's completely dark outside."

"But it feels so weird not seeing anything," Miyako complained. "I feel like I'm blind."

Armadillomon chuckled again. "You're getting there, _da'gya_."

"Quiet, you!" Miyako aimed a kick at Armadillomon, who scurried away. Her foot slipped, and Miyako ended up on the floor once again. "I hate this!" she complained.

Iori closed his eyes, suppressing once more the urge to hurt Miyako – and Armadillomon. Seriously, those two are going to be the death of him – or at least his sanity. "Miyako. Armadillomon. From now until we get off this bus, you two are forbidden from speaking to each other."

"What?" Miyako complained. "But he started it!"

Hawkmon dipped his head. "But he started it? Miyako, I thought you were better than this!"

"What?" Miyako asked. "Everyone has days when they feel like being a little whiny kid again!"

"And you even admit it," Hawkmon muttered. "I can't believe it."

"Just go back to feeling the bus' bouncing," Iori said wearily. He checked his watch. Still another twenty minutes of babysitting. _Why me? _

Together, Miyako and Iori closed their eyes and enjoyed the miniature roller coaster ride. Silence reigned, and Iori felt his temper going down. _Finally, _he thought. _Some peace. _He felt the balance on between his feet, the weightlessness of his body, and the gentle swaying of the bus. _Now if only this can last until we get home…_

But fate, it seems, has other plans. Because according to Murphy's law, anything that can potentially go wrong will. And did it ever go wrong. Miyako, in her bliss, forgot to hang on to the handlebar. When a car suddenly cut in front of the bus, the driver made a sudden brake. Miyako pitched forward, taking Hawkmon, Armadillomon and Iori with her. The driver grimaced at the thud. "Is everyone alright?" he called out uncertainly.

Miyako lay on top of Hawkmon, who lay on top of Armadillomon, who lay on top of Iori. The poor boy gasped for air as he tried to free himself from the pileup. "Get… off…"

No response.

"Help?"

Still nothing.

"Hey! People!" Iori shouted, losing his temper for the umpteenth time in the last twenty-five minutes.

Miyako blinked, and looked down. Hawkmon followed her line of sight, and Armadillomon, feeling something wrong, looked down as well.

"Oops."

* * *

Iori walked with a dark cloud over his head. _I am seriously going to kick and/or kill something or someone in the near future…_

"Why are you so down, partner, _da'gya_?" Armadillomon asked.

_No, really? You really don't know…?_

"Well, we did kind of land on him…," Hawkmon supplied.

_Yes, there was that. Now do we have to talk about it?_

"And turn him as flat as a pancake…" Miyako added.

_I swear, if I hear one more word…_

"Did you see how he was gasping for air, _da'gya_?" Armadillomon quipped.

_I will…_

Miyako giggled. "That was pretty funny. Right, Iori-kun?"

_Destroy something…_

"Iori?" Miyako tapped Iori's shoulder.

She regretted it immediately as Iori slowly turned around. Fixing the older girl with a menacing glance, Iori advanced on his three friends. "You will never speak of this again, do you hear me?" he said in his most threatening voice. Miyako gulped, and nodded. Iori continued. "We will now go home, and I will go to bed. I want peace. And quiet. You will leave me alone or you will face my wrath. Is that understood?"

Miyako nodded vigorously. "Now. Let us continue," Iori ordered.

The four continued in silence, cowed by Iori's aura of anger.

"You know, partner," Armadillomon said. "You could really try and relax. Just close your eyes and sway with the wind…"

**End

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**

**Author's Notes: **Not exactly a night time musing, but it was something I noticed on my epic bus rides home at night. Being the start of a long weekend, the buses going back to Toronto were packed. And in addition to missing the first bus because it was full, I had to stand on the second bus. But I noticed something… when the bus bounces, there's a moment where you feel completely weightless. And it's a great feeling, especially with eyes closed!


	4. Shalom

**Author's Notes:** Shalom means "peace" in Hebrew. Sora, as I seem to recall, means sky in Japanese.

There are some very blatant religious overtones in this chapter, namely towards my own Christian heritage. Sora, I assume, would have more Shinto leanings, and the reader (you!) is free to insert whatever God he/she feels appropriate, or none at all (the Force could easily work as well). For those who choose not to use the Judeo-Christian God, simply ignore the poem at the end.

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Sora opened her eyes, her gaze meeting the darkened expanse of the night sky. She smiled at it, her chin cupped in her hand, with her arm propped up on the armrest. Beneath her, the bus hummed as it raced across the highway.

Sora enjoyed the rides home. She was alone, in the fullest sense of the word. Whether there were a hundred people or one person on the bus, Sora was alone. It scared some people, she knew. Taichi for one couldn't stand being alone. All silences between them were awkward for him, though for Sora, the awkward part was when he started saying random things to ward away the silence. Silence reminded Taichi of being alone too much. Yamato too, hated being alone, though he hid it much better than the other. He would always fidget, or look around to see if there was someone he knew. Sora learned that after she arrived late for more than one date.

But Sora revelled in being alone. She had nothing to hide, because there was no one to see her faults. She was free. Free from expectations from her family, her friends – even herself. Sora was amazed at how much pressure existed in the world. It would have driven her insane had she not found this respite.

Above, the purplish heavens hugged her. A sense of peace always overcame Sora during these times; though her father was more often than not away at a conference or a research talk, she felt as if there was an omnipresent father above her, manifesting himself in the embrace of the night sky. The light pollution Tokyo produced masked the stars, but that was okay. The street lights somewhat made up for that, beckoning to her like brothers and sisters in some universal family. She smiled at them, silently thanking them for the light they provided.

Taichi would probably laugh at her if he could hear her thoughts right now. But, as Sora realized, when she was alone, she could really feel all that was around her – perhaps it meant that she wasn't alone to begin with, merely accompanied by someone other than human or digimon. Sora shrugged inwardly. It didn't matter, who it was the she shared her time of being alone with.

Beside her, Biyomon cracked open an eye. The bird knew the look that had come across Sora's face; it was the look of utmost contentment. It was a face, Biyomon thought sadly, that was being seen less and less around the world.

"Sora," Biyomon asked, softly as to not interrupt her friend. "Who are you thinking about?"

"I don't know," Sora replied. "He's somewhere in the sky. I feel like he's looking out for us."

"Up in the sky?" Biyomon asked. "If we flew up there, would we find him?"

Sora laughed. "Maybe. I don't know. But at the same time, it feels like he's all around us too. Maybe we don't have to go up into the sky. Maybe we could just reach out and touch him..."

Biyomon's wings met only empty air, but she seemed to understand what Sora was saying. The bird closed her eyes, taking in the peaceful atmosphere that suddenly seemed to materialize in front of her. Sora turned to Biyomon and draped her coat over her friend.

"Sweet dreams, Biyomon. I'll wake you up when we arrive."

Biyomon didn't reply; she was already asleep. Sora turned back to the night sky, and continued to watch as the bus rolled on towards home.

* * *

_T__he Lord bless you and keep you;  
The Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you;  
The Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace._

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**Author's Note: **I apologize if the story seems slightly "disjointed". In its defense, I suppose this story is supposed to be somewhat mystical (and since when has something mystical ever made sense?)._  
_


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